It was a mistake.
You have no idea how sorry I am.
If I could use the wayback machine
to go back in time
and rectify this situation
believe me
I would.
I would revise our history
erase my actions
of the last eight hours
and start fresh.

I would not have flirted with her.
I would not have introduced her to our table
if I thought
for a minute
if the possible repercussions
but of course
I could never have anticipated the repercussions
for a girl like that
is never meant to be seen
with a boy like me.
It doesn’t happen.
It could not have been planned.

I’m sorry I bought her that drink.
Those drinks.
That pony.
I shouldn’t have gone off with her
dancing and dick-slobbering.
I should have been friendly,
sure,
gotten her number
in case she ever wants to invite me
to another Fortune Fifty party
or maybe blow me again.

It’s just…
I mean
you got a look at her right?
She was fantastic
and classy
and slutty and fine and
a girl like that
and me –
it doesn’t happen.
I don’t get to talk to girls like that.
I get girls like you.

I had to
I was biologically required to
investigate.
And I uncovered quite a few things
and I’m not proud of it
and I’m incredibly sorry
and it will never happen again
unless she gave me her real number.